


Dinner Parties and Cast Iron Skillets

by catskardllamas



Category: Smosh
Genre: Dinner Parties, F/M, Prompt Fic, Sick Fic, ian hecox mentioned, moments in time, she short tho, she's a cute fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:14:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catskardllamas/pseuds/catskardllamas
Summary: Reader loves to play hostess but will throw it all to the side if someone she cares about needs her more.
Relationships: Damien Haas/Reader
Kudos: 6





	Dinner Parties and Cast Iron Skillets

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I wanted to start a prompt notebook series for another fandom but this about ADHD hyperfixations is that...I do not have a choice L O L. Here’s another installment of the SMOSH prompt notebook series. It reminds me of a reverse version of one of my Criminal Minds fics. You’ll have to read them to find out which one I’m referring to ♥.

She had been inspired by the Try Guys “Without A Recipe” series and the many Rosanna Pansino videos she’d watched over the past few months. Cooking and baking were joyous occasions for her, but she hadn’t really been able to cook or bake anything for other people since she moved to L.A. and started working at SMOSH. Back at her old job in her old town, she’d bring in treats to her co-workers monthly. It was driving her nuts that she hadn’t been able to be domestic with others in so long.

Y/n sat in a chair in her tiny apartment kitchen brainstorming idea. She had invited a few coworkers and friends over for a dinner party. The numbers began to go places she hadn’t planned and her boss swooped in, suggesting they do it at his place. She agreed in an instant. She had her pen to the paper to plan but was interrupted by the text tone of her phone.

**Damien: I’m sorry. My temp is still high and my throat is still a little rough.**

**Y/N: It’s okay, Dames! I’m sorry that you feel so under the weather, though.**

**Damien: I don’t think I’ve had strep in like...13 years. I hate it lol**

**Y/N: Well, get some rest, okay? You’ll be feeling better soon.**

That weekend, Y/n found herself standing outside Damien’s apartment. She knocked on the door with her left hand while holding the basket with her right. She had taken out her phone to make sure the man was even awake and home when the door opened. Face to pallid face, she stood across from her friend.

“Y/n? It’s almost six o’clock. Shouldn’t you be at Ian’s? Cooking?”

The woman winced and held the basket up so he could see it. “Care for some company?”

Damien didn’t say anything as he let her in. His eyes followed her and she led herself to his kitchen area.

“Ian is having something door dashed. I, however,” Y/n had sat the basket on the counter space and started pulling things out of it, “made little brioche and meatloaf sandwiches. For  _ you,  _ I baked a personal mac and cheese skillet in my cute little mini cast iron. Which, by the way, made the basket a butt-ton heavier than I thought it would.”

“I don’t...why aren’t you at Ian’s? Y/n, the dinner party was your idea.” The man stood next to her, looking over all of the withdrawn contents from the basket. 

“Yeah, but you’re sick. How am I supposed to host a good time when someone is sick and missing?” She cocked her head to the side, watching his eyes go from the counter to her own cerulean. 

“Right.” Damien huffed out a gentle laugh and reached for the skillet of mac and cheese. “Thank you, Y/n, for checking up on me and making sure I’m fed.”

Y/n stood up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “Of course, Dames. I want to be the one that makes you feel better. Even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

“...Should we unpack that?”

“Oh, GOD no.” She responded as she grabbed some of the food and walked past him to find a place to sit.


End file.
